


Dance Steps

by Cake and Pi (Tarrin)



Category: Sister Claire (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 15:28:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5132684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarrin/pseuds/Cake%20and%20Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar’s face was the definition of determined as she positioned her hands, one holding Catherine’s hand out to the side, the other at Catherine’s waist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance Steps

“Okay, do you remember where - ah, you do.” Oscar’s face was the definition of determined as she positioned her hands, one holding Catherine’s hand out to the side, the other at Catherine’s waist. “And then you step with your… other foot.” Catherine winced as her toes got trod on.

Red raced over Oscar’s face as she quickly adjusted her stance. “Catherine, oh no, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

“Yes, though maybe I should get iron dancing shoes, if you are still having this much trouble.” Catherine smiled up at her, squeezing Oscar’s hand. “It’s just the opposite of the steps we practiced earlier. Okay, once more.”

Oscar nodded, lips pressed into a thin line. This time there was no squashing of toes, and she and Catherine whirled about the small room. Catherine hummed a tune as they danced, pausing only to say, “Okay, now we switch, in one, two, three-”

A pause, and the direction of their whirling changed, this time Catherine leading Oscar. “You’re getting better.” She murmured, tucking her head under Oscar’s chin. The taller woman simply rested her cheek against the crown of Catherine’s head rather than reply. Catherine was kind to say she was improving. Oscar wasn’t as sure of that, but she wasn’t about to argue. She felt light as feather, even if the dance they were making up for themselves wasn’t strictly traditional.

Skirts swirled and rustled as Catherine hummed. Oscar’s new dress fit perfectly - which, given that Catherine made it, there had never been any question of it not fitting - and the gift had inspired her to ask Catherine to dance. Catherine had been delighted, and yet… and yet for more structured dances, they both wanted to use the same steps. So here they were, switching off leading the other.

“You really are a good dancer. Must be all that fencing practice.” Oscar’s eyes flicked to the side, showing her only a mass of red hair. There was no hint there to see if the words were teasing, unlike the tell-tale smirk that’d hide in the crinkle of Catherine’s eyes.

“Catherine, are you talking about the type of fencing with swords or -”

“Yes.”

Oscar considered the response carefully. She was almost certain Catherine was grinning ear to ear.

“What sort of sword, exactly? Because I remember that day, very clearly. Oh, ‘it is not just me that has to have the sword.’ And ‘just a little sword, to start.’ You didn’t even try to correct my misunderstanding before I left.” Catherine snickered. “You let me go and make a fool of myself, telling the entire Guard, asking Captain Josephine for advice on teaching a beginner. I remember, oh yes. And once again, how dare you.” The words had no bite, nor even bark. It was far enough in the past that even Oscar could now grin about it with barely a blush.

She could feel Catherine laugh against her chest.

“Shh, let’s keep dancing, Oscar.”

For a second there was quiet, and then…

“Ah. That sort of dancing.”

Catherine would have cackled if she hadn’t been otherwise occupied in kissing Oscar. Lights sparkled in her eyes when they separated for air.

“Catherine, just… just how often do you hold back? With your wordplay?” Oscar asked breathlessly.

“Oh, shut up and dance with me.”


End file.
